


Love You like This

by cryme_anocean



Series: We'll Figure it Out [2]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, M/M, Mpreg, Omega Verse, light pregnancy kink, sexual situation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-19
Updated: 2014-07-19
Packaged: 2018-02-09 13:58:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1985505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cryme_anocean/pseuds/cryme_anocean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It turns him on. It fucking turns him on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love You like This

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Люблю тебя таким](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6641506) by [Ahe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ahe/pseuds/Ahe)



> Oh my gosh. The response I got to my last fic was just phenomenal. Thank you for all your kind words and kudos and bookmarks and subscriptions and reading! Comments actually make me write faster, so, if you're interested in the next one...? (Did you catch me trying to bribe you?) This is a very light pregnancy kink. Not very explicit sex because I don't normally write sex. If you did or did not like it, will you please let me know? So, if any of this turns you off, please leave. Other than that, enjoy!

It turns him on. It fucking _turns him on_.

 

Mickey is swollen. He’s lying on the couch, Ian rubbing his hands all over his stomach and murmuring softly to the child growing there, and he feels utterly helpless. And Ian likes it.

 

“Fucking love you like this. Love that you’re so big you need my help to stand up. Love that you need me.” He’s growling in his ear. Mickey wants to sigh and push him away but he’s so hard. He’s hard and wet and needy.

 

Ian’s hand brushes teasingly over his straining erection, fingers lightly pinching at the head. Mickey grunts and shifts, seeking out relief. “Fucking get on with it, Gallagher.”

 

Ian smirks and his touches become less teasing. He tugs down Mickey’s sweatpants—that’s literally all that will fit him—and grips his dick. He strokes him once, twice, three times the way he likes and then nothing. His breath stutters. “Ian,” He breathes, hips jerking.

 

“No.” Mickey hates that he’s driven Ian to this. He hates that him being pr… pre… _that_ has created this disgusting alpha thing. He’s only at six months, hardly as big as he’s going to get. The doctors have already confirmed that the child is larger than normal, indicating he’s most likely an alpha. Mickey has no idea how this child is supposed to get any bigger.

 

Ian’s fingers are slipping back to his ass, coating them in his fluid. “Fuck, you’re so wet. Practically soaking the couch. Fuck.” Ian dips his head down and sucks on his fingers. Mickey knows that he loves the way he tastes. He just doesn’t understand it.

 

“Ian, fuck.” He chokes as he watches Ian shove his jeans down unceremoniously. His dick jiggles in front of him, standing at attention.

 

Now, Mickey isn’t one to focus on dicks. He hates looking at them. _Hated_ , he _hated_ looking at them.

 

Ian’s is pretty.

 

And you’re definitely not supposed to say that about a penis. You’re not supposed to like the way it twitches, fascinated with the flushed head and curving shaft. Mickey feels filthy— _slutty_ —when he catches himself ogling Ian’s dick.

 

It’s large. It hangs between Ian’s legs like a prize and bobs with any movement. His balls are nice, too. Mickey likes the way his fucking _ball sac_ looks. He’s crazy. But they are. They’re round and look the way he’d imagined an alpha’s testicles should look. They’re perfectly proportionate with Ian’s dick and they, too, are pretty.

 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He chants, thrusting up because he wants that stupid thing in him. “Fucking put it in me, Firecrotch!” He’s not begging. He doesn’t do that. But Ian stares at him as if he is.

 

Ian’s eyes are dark and hooded as he presses his dick to Mickey’s opening, the head catching on his rim. Mickey bucks down onto it but Ian moves it back. _Tease, fucking tease_ , his mind supplies but Mickey isn’t sure because he can't think of anything but having that dick splitting him open. He’ll never say it out loud, never ask for it, but he can think it, _will_ think it.

 

“Fuck, you’re so damn wet.” Ian grunts as he slides in finally. The burning in Mickey subsides as he thrusts deep, barely grazing his spot. He groans and pushes back. He needs it. He wants it. He needs the release Ian fucking into that spot will bring.

 

“Ian, dammit.” He mumbles, reaching a hand up to grab at his neck. He pulls him down as Ian pulls out. The pounding that follows makes Mickey feel like he’s five feet under, Ian’s scent pressing down on him as his teeth reclaim the bond bite, opening the wound. It’ll scar, again. He wants that though. Wants Ian’s scars covering him, showing everyone who he belongs to.

 

“Shit, fucking harder.” He feels like an omega. He feels needy and submissive and he knows Ian will disagree. He’ll say the same thing he always does. “ _You don’t act like an omega, Mick, you never have_ ” and he’ll disagree because he knows in his own mind where he’s alone, yes he does. He acts like one of those cheap porno betas pretending to be omegas: begging for it, writhing underneath the alpha, presenting their glistening holes. He knows he thinks like an omega, he knows he acts like an omega in his mind. He ignores it, though, because now he’s being fucked. Now he’s being filled with dick, his alpha’s dick. Now he’s being satisfied.

-

“You fucking bit me.”

 

“Of course I did.” Ian stares at Mickey as if he’s stupid. They’re in bed now; Ian’s typing away on the laptop Mickey stole for him back in the beginning and Mickey’s flipping through a magazine, the glasses he’s always been so embarrassed by on his face because Ian’s in love with them.

 

“No, I mean, just now. When we were fucking. I was bleeding. Am bleeding, I don’t know.”

 

Ian raises an eyebrow and slides the computer off his lap. He moves to hover over Mickey, Mickey instinctively tilting his head to expose his bite. Ian hums and brings his fingers up to run over the puncture. “Barely bleeding, you baby.”

 

“Fuck off.”

 

“Bet it didn’t even hurt.”

 

“That’s not the fucking point. You need to relax.”

 

“Can’t help it.” Ian shrugs and is then back to typing away. The gentle clicking of the keys are distracting as he turns back to the magazine he had no interest in in the first place.

 

He huffs irritably and puts the magazine away, opting for burrowing under the covers to try and sleep. At this stage, the stupid fucker inside him is moving and kicking, keeping him up all night. Tonight is no different.

 

Mickey whines low in his throat and turns onto his other side, facing Ian. The kid kicks him again and he doesn’t know what the fuck it wants. He wants to yell at it, but when he’s done so before, both Ian and the child get upset. He looks up at Ian who’s watching him with a cheeky smile. “Fucking asshole. If you know what’ll help just do it.”

 

“Want you to ask.” He says as if it’s some sort of excuse.

 

“Will you please talk to your devil spawn so it will stop assaulting me?”

 

“You have such a way with words, Mick.” Ian grins and slides the laptop off him again. He pulls the blankets back, nosing at his shirt before Mickey sighs and yanks it up. Ian’s lips attach to his skin instantly. He mouths over his stomach for some time before finally speaking.

 

“Hey there, baby. Your Daddy’s tired, you know? You keep him up kicking him. I love that you want my attention, but you could always ask nicely. Although, if I were stuck inside him all the time, I’d probably kick Daddy, too.”

 

Mickey yanks on his ear. Ian laughs. The baby shuffles inside Mickey at the sound.

 

“Will you let Daddy sleep now?” Ian’s voice is gentle in a way that makes Mickey want to barf. He’s used to the rough Southside way of talking, even to babies. Ian’s not like Southside, though, and that’s odd. The sweet way he talks to their child, all tender voices and soothing coos, is gross to him.

 

The child finally settles down, though, so Mickey relaxes and rests his hands on Ian’s head as he continues to murmur. He kisses skin and then moves away. Only to close the laptop and turn off the bedside light. He slips to Mickey’s side, wrapping a protective arm around his middle, and kisses his exposed shoulder. “Love you.”

 

“Fuck off.” He grumbles back, pushing back into him.

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt me on [tumblr](http://guessiliedinthehook.tumblr.com//) or in the comments!


End file.
